


a different kind of famous

by blkpnk



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Gen, Gun Violence, Injury, Multi, Other, Swearing, heist!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-25 20:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17732531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blkpnk/pseuds/blkpnk
Summary: You are on the brink of infamy. This heist proved it wouldn't be that simple.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> y/n = your name
> 
> re-edited and re-posted original content

“Okay, one last time —”

A set of twinkling eyes met your own in the rear-view mirror.

“Y/N, you’re leading the heist. Enter through the front, watch the operation, and lock down for the off chance you’re immediately compromised.”

The gaze in the reflection shifted to the person beside you, Lisa, whose nails clicked restlessly on the door handle, a rhythmic pattern.

“Lisa, apprehend the security. Fire if you have to, but  _only_  for the legs — we’re not trying to kill anyone. Once you have them down, secure the panic button, and assume your position on the counters to help watch the operation.”

Again, the stare settled on the other side of you, where Rosé sat silently until she was addressed. As cued, she swept her subtle ginger locks off her shoulders, gathering it up to twist with nimble fingers into a tight bun at the crown of her head.

“You, Rosie, are the stitch for this entire heist. Lisa and Y/N will take care of the guard duty so all you have to do is make sure you crack the vault and grab as much as you can. Don’t overburden yourself, it’ll make escaping difficult. Once you’ve filled everyone’s bags, disperse them evenly.”

Finally, Jennie turned from the mirror to her passenger. Jisoo didn’t bother looking up from her laptop computer to know that she would be briefed next.

“Lastly, Jisoo is our eyes and ears. She’ll only relay the important details via your earpieces if needed. Once you’ve secured the money, we’ll know, and she’ll guide you out the best possible exit where I’ll be waiting. Remember not to get too comfortable once we have you, because it’s only a short distance until the trade-off. By then, police should be onto us.”

Jennie twisted to face you all, an expression only worn during these missions in place now: serious, calculating, and all business.

“We have to be quick, but we have to be rational. No room for mistakes or for screwing around. This is our biggest heist yet. We  _can’t_  fuck up.”

The incessant tapping abruptly stopped as Lisa picked up her ski mask from her lap, pausing just before her face. “Yeah, and just so we’re  _all_ clear, I’m totally going to be making Snapchat worthy ugly faces at you guys the entire time I’m wearing this scratchy mask.” With that and a snicker, she pulled the material over her features, hair already drawn up.

There was a smirk on your face as you followed suit, donning the mask and fixing it until it no longer bothered you… as much. You looked down at your garb, pleased with how well it cloaked your figure to the point that it was difficult to even assume what gender you were. Which was the whole point. A bullet proof vest, not only for safety, also served to pad your curves beneath the baggy zip-up. And if you weren’t about to rob a bank, you could wear your sweatpants to a hip-hop dance practice. As far as anyone could tell, you and your partners  _could_  be women, or you could be slender men, especially with Lisa and Rosé above average in height. After all, this wasn’t your _first_ burglary.

There was a roll of her eyes from Jennie, though you could see the fondness behind it, and then she was facing around again. Slender fingers started the engine, the expendable “get-away” car rattling to life. You weren’t about to spend more money than you were about to steal on some fancy escape car. A junker would do. Especially for what you planned to do with it once you were safely out of the bank. It was your favorite part, but you couldn’t focus on that. Not when the ball hadn’t started rolling on your operation yet.

The particular bank that you all had in mind was one that was open after-hours. By “after-hours” they meant a couple hours after traffic died down from the rush home at the end of the work day, making it accessible for those too busy to make the trip during the regular times. It was your prime target: an establishment that wouldn’t conflict with traffic, person and car, while allowing you all to easily slip into the cover of the oncoming nightfall.

You played with the safety on your semi-automatic rifle, situated between your legs, pointed downwards. The black duffel bags provided enough cover that any passersby close to the car would have a hard time spotting the weapons. You’ve never shot anyone before, and desperately hoped you never would, but you certainly felt comfortable holding someone up on the other end of it. There was a power that overcame you, and you were scared of becoming drunk on it. Probably why you’ve never even fired the thing. Lisa has, on multiple occasions. You might even say she enjoyed the rambunctious quality of guns. Fitting. You happily left all the firing to her, and she was happy to do so.

The city flitted by, Jennie’s expert driving maintaining a low profile as you neared ever closer to the location. Jisoo hadn’t looked up once from her laptop, multiple windows sifting continually through her watch on the screen. This wasn’t some spontaneous decision. This was very much premeditated, going so far as months prior to where you sat now. It gave Jisoo enough time to safely insert herself in the bank’s security system, as well as the local police department’s dispatch broadcast, and other technologically inclined bases that you weren’t privy to. All that time spent playing video games really paid off, nourishing the eldest’s interests until she became somewhat of an impressive hacker.

The whole time, Rosé sat quietly beside you. There wasn’t a bit of movement or noise from her, and she stared straight ahead. You knew better than to disturb her. It was her way of preparing herself, attuning herself so that when it came down to the pressure of being the one who would get you inside the vault, to your cash, she wouldn’t crack. Beside the rifle at her feet, all she was equipped with was a stethoscope. It sounded mundane and altogether too simple, but it worked. You’ve seen it happen. Like some sort of diabolical doctor, she would crouch at the door, chest piece pressed beside the dial. The job would be done within minutes. She had to have good hearing or something, because that was also another job to this whole heist you could never do.

The car rolled to a stop, and you knew it was game time. Jisoo’s fingertips hardly paused on the keyboard as you arrived, teeth worrying into her lip. The coast was clear, signaled by a two-fingered gesture. With the slightest of nods from Jennie in the rear-view mirror, Lisa threw open the door and jumped out. You followed, Rosé close behind, and together, you charged the front doors to the bank you had pulled up in front of. You didn’t have to look to know that Jennie and Jisoo were already gone.

Your gloved left hand dug into your hoodie pocket, producing a portable voice distorter that you raised to your mouth just as Lisa and Rosé burst open the doors to the lobby. The butt of your rifle rested in the crook of your shoulder and aimed at the small gathering of innocents, eyes widening in shock at the sight before you were shouting into the mouthpiece.

“I need EVERYONE to get on the ground NOW!”

Like clockwork, your hostages lowered themselves to the ground, some collapsing rather awkwardly. There had been plenty of instances for you to practice ignoring the cries of fear that began to muffle against the marble floor. Instead, you had bigger fish to fry, and having memorized the blueprints Jisoo had drawn out, you knew exactly where to look for the guard detail. As suspected, three security officers were stationed systematically through the lobby, and as Lisa motioned for the bank teller who appeared to be attempting a swipe for the panic button, a guard rounded the corner for her. You couldn’t reach her in time, seeing as you stared down the barrel of your own rifle at a lady guard who visibly shook in front of you. She reluctantly lowered her handgun to the floor in surrender.

“Drop the weapon!” a guard’s voice hollered in the large open space. A Glock quivered in Lisa’s direction. You glanced at Rosé, watching in mild surprise as she kicked the second guard’s gun away from reach and withdrew zip ties from her duffel bag on her back. It prompted you to do the same, but —

A gunshot echoed off the walls, several screams bleeding into the noise in a disorienting din.

“The next time  _won’t_  just be her foot,” Lisa’s warbled voice threatened. One hand held a voice distorter to her mask, the other pointed for what you could guess was the bank teller on the ground. There was a short pause as the last guard hesitated. Then, with a few choice swears beneath his breath, he shuffled to the floor, sliding his gun to Lisa’s feet. You finally bent to zip tie your guard, distracted by the lame start to your operation. Lisa disappeared behind the stations once you had moved near enough to apprehend her opponent, and you slid the tie into its tightest notch on the man’s wrists.

Things were going  _almost_  as planned. With the security patrol sloppily captured, you returned to the front doors. An imaginary scene played before your eyes, of the police arriving and storming the building, but you pushed it out of your mind. Just because the bust hadn’t gone as cleanly as previous heists didn’t mean this one wouldn’t succeed. Instead, you seized the security gate and dragged it along, locking it at the other side. Behind you, you could hear Lisa climbing atop the counter, and once you turned around, saw her cradling her rifle, gazing out upon your hostages. Rosé was nowhere to be seen, but the vault Jisoo explicated was just down a barred corridor where you could see if an unaccounted guard attempted to thwart her proceedings.

Now, you wait. It made your skin itch, but you paced in a nonchalant manner about the hall, hoping to appear as though none of it bothered you. Of course, it bothered you — but this was the way things had to be. You were the leader of your little crew, and it was your duty to hold it together. For Lisa and for Rosé.

You counted the guards: one, two, three. Still on the ground, still handcuffed, and you ignored the young woman crying softly in a corner. The bank teller would live. Lisa’s aim was true, and you had yet to ever see a news report about your infamous heists having any casualties. All you had to do was stick to the plan. Jennie and Jisoo’s plans always worked.

It felt like forever, but the clock above read it had been all of three minutes when Rosé’s figure came jogging back into view, dropping her duffel full of cash on the counter Lisa perched on. Lisa slipped hers off, tossing it to your vault robber, and she was gone again. Just a couple more minutes.

You could stomach this.

Rosé returned, headed for you. You met her halfway as you removed your duffel strap from your shoulder, trading the bags between you two. Your eyes met, Rosé wordlessly searching for something in you. You turned away before she could surmise anything, throwing your bag onto your back. The weight of the money was a little more than unwelcoming, and you were already sweating through your damn clothes, but it would be worth it. Literally.

Your earpiece crackled. Lisa jumped in your peripheral as hers did the same, but Rosé’s back continued retreating to her task. Jisoo’s voice came, sounding oddly automatic.

“Five minutes left. Police have been alerted to suspicious activity. Suggested point of exit: back of building, through the service entrance. We’ll be waiting.”

Lisa hopped off the counters, stooping to lift the bank teller. The gun in her hand was enough to frighten the woman from doing anything but obeying. They walked from around the counters so she couldn’t reach the panic button and dropped her off on the floor with the rest of the hostages. Then she motioned for the direction Rosé had gone, and you followed suit. You tread backwards so that your eyes remained on your hostages, counting the guards once again, and as Rosé joined you with the third and last duffel bag, you lifted your voice distorter to your lips.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Then you broke into a sprint together. The sound of leather combat soles slapping the marble floor reverberated with you the entire way as the three of you snaked along halls that you pictured in your head. Jisoo’s blueprints were surprisingly coherent and accurate, and you turned a corner, aching to be free of this place. The service entrance was in sight.

A figure darted into view. A target painted on your chest. The first round struck your vest, but the power behind it was enough to knock the wind from your lungs. You nearly tripped and fell at the shock and fear that riddled you. The second gunshot hurt  _a lot_  worse.

A series of rapid reports deafened your ears, a cacophony in the small hallway. Time slowed, your legs sluggish. God, could you run any slower? Suddenly, you didn’t  _want_  to anymore. Before you, the omitted guard crumpled to the ground, red leaking onto the marble. Was that blood? A shocking amount. You wish you hadn’t looked down, but you did, and as you passed over his prone body, you saw the light of the scones reflecting in dead eyes.

Dead.

The air inside had been so heavy and thick that when you rushed out into the night, it was like a completely different climate. You breathed deeply, thankful for the fresh air, but your breath only went so far before stopping short. It came back out in a rush of pain, a gasping grimace, your free hand flying up to your shoulder, and when you pulled your fingers away, you saw them coated in sticky crimson.

“ _Shit!_ ” Rosé spat, a tender hand on your arm as she forced you to face her. Acknowledging it only made it hurt worse, and you felt tears spring to your eyes. In pain? In fear? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t the worst of it just yet. Between the adrenaline and the pressure to conform to your duty, to complete your task, the predicament sat patiently at bay. At any second, it would cripple you. For now, you were still standing.

“We have to go!” Lisa snapped, already jogging down the alley, black boots kicking debris. In the background sat a nondescript car you knew to hold Jennie and Jisoo, waiting for you. Rosé’s hand never left your elbow as you ran. You didn’t need the support, but you definitely wanted it.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he would be there!” Jisoo apologized the moment you had stepped foot inside the cabin. There were tears in her eyes, a lip quivering. You couldn’t hear the rest of what she had to say, a ringing beginning in the back of your skull. Jennie peeled off, the momentum throwing you against the back of your seat, tires screeching. Rosé was quick to yank down your zipper to open your hoodie and stretched the collar of your shirt to the side. The gasp that came didn’t make you feel any better about the damage, and you counted your breaths again to make sure you didn’t start hyperventilating.

“The bullet went right through you,” Rosé reported, ripping off her mask now. Seeing her naked face expressed all the concern she was feeling for you. “All we have to do is close up the wound. I can do that for you once we’re clear.”

Jisoo was still wound around in her front seat, gaping in horror at your shoulder. It was evident the guilt she felt, written on her features, and while you didn’t feel the slightest bit of anger to blame her with, it didn’t help your panic. Your teeth grit together, warding off whatever you felt building up inside, when Lisa spoke.

“We’re being followed.” Her voice, even without the distorter, sounded hollow. It occurred to you then that she was the one who shot the guard in retaliation. Not once, or twice, or even three times. The amount of gunfire you heard couldn’t be numbered and wouldn’t be until the autopsy.

It broke her stare and Jisoo turned back around in her seat to glance through a couple pages. A finger pressed on her earpiece. After a few seconds, her voice returned, eerie. “It’s a squad car. They’re tailing us because they aren’t sure if we’re the right car… they’re calling reinforcements.”

You sank lower instinctively, wincing at the movement sending lances of pain through your arm. It was already starting. Rosé held a hand over your wound, pressing in a way that made you want to push her off, but knew better. She was staunching the flow. She didn’t care for what was happening around her, only that she was taking care of you. You met her eyes again, and again, she tried to find something in yours. You were too weak to fight it away this time, and her fingers curled possessively over your shoulder, palm still levying the blood.

Simultaneously, gunfire erupted from behind you and beside you. Glass shattered, raining down on your head in a glistening curtain, just as Rosé dove to cover your body with hers. You could see out of the corner of your eye Lisa, crouched on the cushion backwards, rifle seated on the headrest. Her finger pulled again and again and  _again_  on the trigger until tires screamed. At first, you thought it was your car down, the way Jennie whipped to the side abruptly. Instead, a glow of orange whirred past you, the police car skidding off the road into a series of parked cars. You thought you saw it flip, but it was merely a glimpse, and Rosé had yet to remove herself from over you. Lisa sat back down beside you, hands still assuming position on her rifle, and stared blankly ahead. You couldn’t possibly understand what she was feeling right now.

It seemed the crash caused a distraction, as no other cars followed you. Jennie sped through the streets, knowing. It felt like hours had passed, but you knew it couldn’t have taken that long. Your perception was warped, and you wondered idly just how much blood you had lost. Rosé’s hand was inked in your blood, running down her wrist to beneath her sleeve. It didn’t seem to bother her. Only that you were okay. If her hand wasn’t on your shoulder, you felt like you would have fallen apart.

When the car slowed, you felt the panic rise in the back of your throat like bile. You weren’t sure what for, but she stopped beneath an overpass, in the shadows of the side of the road. Rosé helped you from your seat, slinging the extra duffel onto her back, while the rest filed out of the car with all their personal effects. At least you had made it this far. And now it was time for the best part. 

Parked in a Dumpster lot was your next car, ready for the taking. You were in a sketchy part of town, where no one would second guess a random car in some dank alley. It even fit the role, dinged and with tinted windows. A hand now circled your waist for extra support as you approached the vehicle. Jisoo took a set of keys from her pocket, unlocking the passenger side to toss her gear onto the seat. Lisa’s movements were robotic, setting herself on the hood of the car, looking suspicious with her gun out in the open on her lap. Gone was her will to care, as well as the usual light in her eyes. You didn’t know what to say to her to make it better.

Lisa  _wasn’t_  a murderer. The world would soon think differently.

Together, you all faced where Jennie still remained beside the original car. From the depths of her backpack, she revealed a weapon of her own. A simple tug of the pin, and she tossed the low-grade grenade into the seats. In the streetlight, you could see your blood smeared on the back cushions. Jennie didn’t bother returning to you at a pace faster than a walk. Her eyes were cast down as she joined you all at the car. No one said anything as you piled inside, and she took off out of the alley, squealing on stagnant drain water.

The grenade detonated. You didn’t even flinch as an eruption shook the street like an earthquake. It was a plume of dark smoke, roiling from under the overpass, exuding debris that fell in increments upon the road, striking buildings. The car was demolished, and with it, any traces of your crime.

All eyes were on the rear-view mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re-edited and re-posted original content

_Arlo Bowen. 37. Father, son, brother. Gone but not forgotten, laying down his life in the line of duty._

The only glow in the dim that you occupied yourself in came from your phone, where the words glared up at you from the screen. It was a page you frequented, several years old by now, but the feelings it brought to the surface never seemed to fade.

Even now.

You clicked the light off, slipping the device into a pocket on your jacket and zipping it shut. From there, your hand travelled to your left shoulder, where even through the layers you knew exactly where to press. Underneath the black biker jacket, harness, and bullet-proof vest, there was a circular gnarled scar, another mirroring on your back. Where Arlo Bowen’s bullet had struck you. Where Rosé had stitched you up in the safehouse. Where the source of your chronic nerve pain sat and ran down your arm.

But at least you were alive.

You picked up the sniper rifle at your feet, checking the chamber once more. It was force of habit at this point, assuring that there was a bullet in there. That you were armed. With a deadly weapon. That could take a life.

You had seen firsthand what taking a life could do to someone who didn’t want to. Lisa didn’t show it. But you knew. You knew the demons that haunted her since that night. You tried to be there for her, and you made it easier, you did. You were the reason she killed someone, after all. But she _never_ blamed you. It seemed like almost every night she reminded you — it wasn’t your fault. There was even a night that she said that she would do it again. If it was your life on the line, she would always choose you.

You weren’t going to take a life. Not unless you had to. Thankfully, your role was to fire at an inanimate object — or to make it inanimate. For now, all you had to do was wait.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, people — it’s been almost four years with no leads, and these five people have haunted my dreams.”

The police captain said it with a lining of jest, but it was no secret that it was true.

“But tonight’s the night the anonymous tip we received a month ago gave evidence those same people are going to hit up that new, fancy bank on Fifth Ave. This is what we needed! We’re suiting up, we’re surrounding the building, and we’re not going home unless we have all five of those assholes in handcuffs!”

 

* * *

 

 

By now, when the earpiece crackled to life in your ear, you expected it. It didn’t scare you anymore to suddenly have another’s voice in your head. Especially when it was Jisoo, like she knew how unsettling the connection could be and used the most soothing voice she could muster.

“You’re not on your phone, are you?”

It took you a moment to realize she was contacting you via a private server.

“… no.”

“Liar.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks pressed in the process by the cushioning of the motorcycle helmet you wore. She was right. Why should you lie about it? She probably had a line hooked up to your phone anyway, probably received an alert every time you pulled up that obituary. See how much it still bothered you.

“It won’t be like last time,” Jisoo assured. You believed her. Closed your eyes, imagining her soft face. Those eyes when they looked at you, through you, chasing away the shadows. “When we pull this off, we won’t have to do anything like this again.”

“I know,” you breathed. All your trust laid out for Jisoo. Even when she was just another person who apologized to you after too many drinks. Someone who thought it was her fault you were ever wounded. Someone who carried the weight of her part of the job always and thought she failed you.

“Don’t look at it anymore.” It was a whisper.

“Okay.” You sighed, heavy. Choked. “Jisoo…”

You couldn’t finish what you wanted to say, losing your voice as you looked up at the stars above you. Thin, blended out by the city lights.

“I know,” she replied. “I love you too.”

You wanted to cry.

The next words that came were from the crew channel.

“The police are in place. Is everyone ready?”

“Check,” Lisa replied. If you squinted, if you really focused and trained your eyes to notice the different shades of black, you could see the faint outline of your fellow sniper two blocks over, stationed on the other side of your target location.

“Check,” you echoed her. And just like you suspected, you could see the slight movement of her shifting. Looking back at you. It made a shiver run through you. From what? You weren’t sure. But you sure were glad she wasn’t the one on the ground. Not after last time.

“Check,” both Jennie and Rosé responded. You didn’t have to look over the precipice of the building to know that they were approaching their entry point.

“Then let’s get this started,” Jisoo announced. “I’ve unlocked the front doors, but that’s as much as I can do. You need the curator for the fingerprint scanner and as a hostage, or they won’t let you take a step back out.”

It went without saying that they would be filled with lead if they tried that without some shield. They were wanted criminals… murderers.

“You won’t have long, approximately fifteen minutes. Remember the blueprints and you should be good on time. There’s one security guard. The curator is alone, in the appraisal room. Girls, you’re good to go. Good luck.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Where the fuck are they?!”

The beat cop whimpered under his collar. The same collar his captain was holding up to his face, glaring down at his whelp like it was his fault.

“This is the correct address!” the cop replied. He stumbled when the captain let go of his hold and took a couple more steps back for safety when the captain gave a roar and threw his hat down on the ground.

“There’s no one here!” he yelled. With a turn, he faced the rest of the squadron. “There’s no one here, is there?”

“No, sir,” another cop spoke up, holstering his gun. “We swept the bank. Twice. The cameras are clean, and every single cent is accounted for by the tellers. No suspicious activity.”

The captain growled deep in his throat, hand rubbing stubble on his chin as he thought. The anonymous tip was creditable, even if it was from a phone booth a county over. There was plenty of evidence, a motive. It really seemed believable that the five that had raided a bank four years ago and gunned down an innocent man in cold blood would do it again tonight. Especially with the grand opening of this establishment. What went wrong? Were they tipped off? Did they jump to conclusions too soon?

Above them, a litter of stars sparkled in the night sky. The captain stared up at them, thinking.

Then all at once, he screamed.

“Son of a  _bitch!_ ” snatching his hat off the ground, the captain sprinted for his squad car. The rest of the police followed suit, although thoroughly puzzled. In the passenger seat, he began hurriedly typing in a new address into the GPS computer.

“What is it, sir?” the cop in the driver’s seat hesitantly questioned, looking between his superior and the computer.

“They’re not at the bank — it was a fuckin’ false tip. They’re at the museum uptown. Do you know what just came into town for the new exhibit?”

“No, sir…”

“The Trader’s Diamond,” he spat, followed by several colourful words. Address entered, he gestured for the driver to take off. “They set us up, those fuckin’ pricks. They’re after the Diamond. Thing is worth more than the city itself. Get us there as fast as you can!”

 

* * *

 

 

It wouldn’t take long for the police to realize their error, that the anonymous tip Jisoo planted over a month ago was fake. Soon, they would be rushing to the museum, were you were currently stationed. Ready for a fight after being made to look like a fool. It really was too easy to throw them off, and it bought them the time they needed to get inside and into position. The curator was exactly where they needed them to be, prime for the picking. They would have their hostage long before they would arrive, and there was no chance they would take when there was a gun to the curator’s head.

Your squinted down the street, watching. Even as you heard the breaths coming quick over the coms from Rosé and Jennie as they hustled through the museum’s halls. There didn’t seem to be a hitch in the plan, the blueprints Jisoo nicked updated as recently as four months ago. They knew every crevice of the place. There was no place Jisoo didn’t have her eye on. And just as you thought it, you heard her.

“Guys, three o’clock. Security guard, nightstick only. Get ready.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jennie darted ahead, leaving Rosé a few steps behind. The moment her figure crossed the intersecting hallways, a male’s voice hollered after her.

“Hey,  _stop!_  Now!”

Thick-soled footfalls echoed off the marble walls, and the security guard in a grey uniform didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder as he took after Jennie. Only, she had stopped a short distance down the walk, facing him. In sight, he began to slow, taking cautious steps toward the helmeted intruder. From his belt he carefully withdrew a nightstick, raising slightly. Shaking.

“Give it up,” said he, but his voice betrayed him. The guard was scared and didn’t really want to get into a fight. Even as Rosé silently stalked behind him. “Come with me and no one has to get hurt.”

Rosé struck. A severe left hook socked him in the left temple from behind, the guard staggering to the side with a cry, falling against the wall. As she approached, the guard swung his nightstick blindly, hoping to hit whoever had attacked him. And he did. The baton whacked uselessly against a black motorcycle helmet. Rosé stumbled a spare second from the impact, but unhindered, was able to reach out, catching the next blow he tried to deliver easily in a gloved hand. It seemed he wasn’t going to go down without a struggle however. The guard tried to yank back the weapon in vain, once, twice. Rosé’s grip was tight like a vise, and she used the leverage to rear up a foot. The heel of her boot struck him in the chest with as much strength as she could muster. It was more than enough to knock the wind from his lungs, the guard falling the rest of the way to ground and releasing the only thing that stood between him and his attacker. Nightstick in possession, Rosé raised it above her, a practiced aim bringing the shaft down hard against his skull with a  _crack!_  The guard’s head lolled, eyes glazed, lifting an arm but not nearly high enough for the next blow. This time, the strike rendered him unconscious on the ground.

Jennie’s laugh sounded through the earpiece, patting Rosé on the back as the two of them continued their route to the cheer in their heads from Jisoo. They weren’t far now.

 

* * *

 

 

The appraisal room doors surged open, a pair of black figures storming in with purposeful strides. Guns aimed for the curator. A woman with silver hair and wide eyes, eyes that began to brim with tears and a mouth that gaped as her hands rose helplessly in surrender.

“Come with us,” came one warbled voice.

“And we won’t hurt you,” the other sounded, just as distorted.

The woman nodded slightly, unmoving as they crossed the threshold. Past priceless art pieces and projects in process. None of that was their concern. Not when their eyes were on a different prize. A prize not in this room. The woman knew without being told and didn’t try to resist as Jennie seized an arm not too nicely. The curator yelped, a tear falling, and stumbled alongside the pair of them as they rushed her out. There was even a small cry that could be heard over the earpieces when Rosé pressed cold metal against the woman’s cheek.

“Where is it?” Jennie’s vague voice spat through the helmet.

“Where is… what?” the woman’s voice trembled as she spoke. Rosé jabbed her in face harder, a hand pinching her shoulder.

“Where is the Trader’s Diamond?” she said insistently. “We know it’s here, and we don’t have to keep you alive to get to it.” A bluff, but a risk worth taking.

The woman began openly crying, nodding ahead of them.

Once in the hall, the woman lolled her head to the left, and they swerved in that direction.

“Police have figured it out — ETA seven minutes,” Jisoo reported over the coms.

Neither of the girls replied as they continued to follow the delirious woman’s directions. It wasn’t long, though. They knew where they were going. They just needed the curator to come with them, to prove she was willing to cooperate and not mislead them. In moments, they came upon it.

The exhibit.

It was a wide, tall room. The marble here was polished and gleaming, even as it was dimly lit with generator lights that reflected off hundreds of crystalline glass displays housing the world’s most famous jewels, crystals, and formations. An exhibit they had known about for years, and just needed the right moment to strike. For in the middle of it all sat the Trader’s Diamond. A jewel that even from the distance was easily the size of a fist, clear and pristine. It was about to live up to its name.

“Give us entry,” Jennie demanded, and Rosé slid the muzzle of the gun to the curator’s temple.

The woman wept as she unlocked a panel beside the doorway, disabling security with a press of her thumb. The fingerprint. The moment they could move, the three of them hustled into the room, darting through the display cases. Eyes never falling on the various expensive items around them. Only on the singular pedestal in the center of the room. Within reach, Jennie broke off, leaving Rosé to clutch the hostage with metal pricking soft, shaking skin.

The glass was unlocked with the security, and gloved fingers worked easily to lift the case. The diamond itself was much heavier, but Jennie was never the type to shy away under pressure. Rather, she gained strength. Emboldened. She snatched the diamond with a steeled hand, heaving the jewel and dropping it into the insulated backpack she had swung off her shoulder. Not lost over the coms, there was a deep sigh of relief. Then she was whipping around, signaling at Rosé with a flick of her wrist. The operation had reached its climax.

 

* * *

 

 

Jisoo’s voice cracked over your earpiece as she relayed the proximity of the police. It rattled you a little to realize that she was growing nervous. It was enough to push you into action, and you shifted a bit in your crouch to gather feeling in your legs again. The butt of the sniper settled into the curve of your shoulder. The side without the nerve damage. The prospect of what pain the recoil of the rifle could bring made you never want to favour your left side again. It was all the same, you had become quite ambidextrous in all your efforts since you and your crew began this life of crime.

You could hear the sirens before you saw the squad cars. Fortunately, the city didn’t have enough funds to invest in air support, which only made your job all the easier. All you could hear were the laboured breaths of your teammates inside as they navigated the hallways, drowning out the rush of blood in your ears. Jisoo was quiet, which was good. It meant that she hadn’t spotted anything wrong yet, save the lone security guard that Rosé had quickly dispatched by the sounds of it. The sirens grew steadily in volume, and the familiar bouncing red and blue lights began to colour the buildings as they arrived.

“We’re almost at the exit,” Rosé’s voice informed.

“Good timing,” Jisoo replied. “The police are arriving. Make sure they see the hostage. Get into the car, and your support will begin.”

You. You were the support. The scope of the sniper rifle lifted before your eye, the other fluttering shut as you focused. There they were, the police. They peeled through the streets, smoke filling the air behind them as though they were charging bulls. Just as you suspected, they were angry. They had been fooled and they wanted revenge. If not even more than they did before, having been duped again. It almost made you want to smile if you weren’t nearly falling apart with nerves.

Squad cars skidded into place in front of the museum, just like you could imagine they did behind the building as well, on Lisa’s side. There would be no time to secure a perimeter, and you would be off the roofs long before their snipers would make it up there. You wouldn’t be using the elevators anyway.

The front doors of the museum swung open, and you could see the three small figures of your comrades and the hostage. The police that had begun filing out of the cars froze, spotting the hostage that you had heard crying faintly over the earpiece. From your height, you could only make out silver hair glistening under the street lights. That and the fact that the police were now frazzled, caught unaware. Again.

Someone was yelling, a strange voice floating up to your perch. Between the stories and the helmet, you couldn’t hear what was being said, but you knew it was Jennie. Telling them to back the fuck off, probably. If they wanted the hostage to live, which the police would obviously want. And as instructed, you saw the police shrink back, taking cover behind cars and doors with eyes still keen on them.

“Perfect. Now exit,” Jisoo commanded. “Snipers, ready?”

“Whenever you are,” Lisa said.

Jennie, Rosé, and hostage began descending the steps in a jumbled mess, the curator nearly falling as she was pushed forward. Once they had reached the bottom, you felt a bead of sweat roll down your brow. They had begun sidling toward the service garage, and you were about ready to jump out of your skin.

“You’re free to fire.”

The crosshairs of your sniper rifle were already on the hood of the squad car closest to the garage. A single pull of your trigger sent a powerful kick through your frame.

The car imploded. Which, honestly, shocked you. There had been many nights spent studying just where the perfect shot could land to gain the desired result that you had now. But it was still a shock that it even worked. How could people drive cars knowing just a single bullet could destroy their engine? You had no time to linger on the fact, instead spending a moment drawing back to empty the chamber and reload the next bullet. Aim, wait for the scrambling figure of an officer to move out of the way, fire at the tire of the next squad car. The vehicle shuddered, clambering down onto its metal rim as rubber ripped away from the impact.

On the other street, there was a similar explosion.

Empty chamber. Reload. Aim. Fire.

You repeated the actions without so much a second thought. Not until every squad car had been foiled and there was no opportunity for them to follow.

Follow the car that had just screeched from the garage the moment its door had lifted enough, power sliding out of the way of the blazing squad vehicle and tearing down the street at incredible speed. Inside you knew it to be your comrades and hostage, escaping. With the Trader’s Diamond.

And your job was done. You slung the sniper rifle around onto your back and broke into a sprint across the rooftop, away from the museum. It was a mixture of adrenaline and fear and excitement and whatever the fuck else you were feeling that carried you much faster than you expected before you reached the opposite side of the building. Where a rappel system sat waiting for you. Harness already fitted, you simply picked up the carabiners and attached them to the rungs on your chest and at your hips. A yank on the cords assured you that the base was solid, and you wouldn’t fall to your death. Because the next moment, you took a deep breath. And jumped.

 

* * *

 

 

A gloved finger slid up the tinted cover of the motorcycle helmet. Jennie glanced at the woman in the passenger seat as Rosé sank back on her cushion, dropping the gun away from where it had been prodding against the back of the curator’s head.

“You really put on a good show,” Jennie commented, looking back at the road as she sped down the night-clad streets.

The curator smiled back, a sly smile like a fox. “I really should be an actress, shouldn’t I?” she said as she flipped open the sun visor to look at herself in the little mirror, wiping at the mascara under her eyes.

“You even had me fooled, Hani,” Rosé said, looking out the window. Gun tapping restlessly against the armrest on the door.

“Even you guys have to buy the act if I really want to sell the idea that I’m not in league with you,” Hani hummed, taking a deep breath, letting the last of the intensity drain away. Twisting around in her seat then, “Do you think the others got out?”

 

* * *

 

 

Hand on the rope, your feet hit brick as you began to descend the side of the building. You had to be careful to not hit any windows, and you could only imagine what it must look like right now if someone were to poke their head out. Probably exactly what it looked like: a burglar running from the scene of their crime. You chuckled to yourself. Even now, you couldn’t believe that this was your life.

Each spring from the building brought you several feet lower. You didn’t dare look down, because the whole idea brought on by Lisa still scared you if you were being honest. Just think about it, you were climbing down this giant fucking building after having shot up all these police cars. You just had to keep going. Keep jumping. Hold tight to the cord so it didn’t just let you dive to the ground. The muscles of your quads were beginning to ache, no thanks to crouching for so long on the roof. Still, you pushed through the agony. Deep breaths. No panicking now.

The next thing you knew, you were stumbling down onto your knees as you reached the ground. Guess you really should have looked down to see where you were going. But you were back on your feet in a second.

It was quick work to unhook yourself from the harness. Despite the tremble in your fingers and the sniper vibrations that still jarred your bones, you released from the rappel with ease. You had had plenty of practice the months leading up to the heist, and you were sure thankful for it now. Even now, as you turned around to the inky motorcycle waiting for you, you couldn’t stop imagining a series of police storming the alleyway. Riddling your body with bullets. You had to take a deep breath, force yourself to stay composed. You had to get out of here.

The keys to the motorcycle were in your jacket pocket, and you retrieved them, stabbing them into the ignition. With a swing of your leg over the body, you straddled the machine and surprised yourself with the fact that you were already tearing out from between the buildings. Throttle twisted as far back as it could go.

Tires screamed as you swerved onto the street. You couldn’t hear but you knew that just a street over, Lisa was doing the same. Or, at least, should be. Had to be.

 _Stop it,_  you told yourself. Stop second guessing everything. Just do what you have to do. You sped down the street to the beat of the motorcycle’s revving engine, forcing yourself to not think about the fact that the police should be alerted to their escape and attempting a chase. A chase you were all prepared for.

A turn down another street and a streak of midnight joined you. You glanced to the left. Beneath the tinted visor, Lisa was looking back at you. Thank God she was here, because you suddenly felt more assured. Things were going according to plan. Not at all like last time. This could work. You all could get out of this, Diamond in pocket. Pockets soon to be lined with more money than any of you knew what to do with. It was smooth sailing from here —

Thunder. Or…

 _Gunfire_.

Then it hit you. Literally.

You gasped out in pain and fright, and you knew that the opened channel with everyone tapped in heard you. Waiting with bated breath. It was only your vest, but the sensation of being shot would never become a familiar feeling. Not when it struck the air from your lungs from the force. Not when it still seeped through in the form of fear that felt altogether too much like actual blood running down your back. It wasn’t, but you couldn’t stop picturing it.

They were onto you. They had found you and Lisa.

Your left hand reached for the gun strapped to your thigh. Sniper rifles were useless in this case, but you had been evidently armed. Jennie knew there was the possibility of a patrol car not associated with the heist that would pop up and made sure you had something to defend yourself.

They were firing away. By now, the pair of you had engaged evasive maneuvers, weaving between pedestrian cars and out of the way of their spray. Bullets whistled by, too close, but at least another one had yet to hit you. A random _ding!_ sounded off the body of your motorcycle, a flash of sparks lighting up before your face. The reports had too long of a pause between them to be a rifle, so you could take a small measure of comfort in knowing that it was only a handgun, and police were only stocked with a certain number of magazines. As long as the pair of you continued the pursuit without a hitch, they would have to fall back, out of ammo.

You glanced over your shoulder. A single squad car, lights flaring, an officer leaning out the window. A small part of you was saying you should pull over, obey the law. But just as the thought passed through your mind, your head pinged to the side as a bullet ricocheted off your helmet. And it was enough to snap back into the present.

Twisting around, you lifted your gun and aimed. Fired a couple rounds. Saw the windshield shatter. It did nothing to deter the unharmed officers in the car except make it more comfortable for them to fire back. Eyes landed on Lisa for support.

Lisa wasn’t swerving anymore, driving in a straight line. Like an easy target. There was a gun in her hand, but it was pressed against the handlebar as she drove. Whole body rigid rooted in place. Helmet facing forward. What you wouldn’t give to know the look on her face, what she was thinking.

“Lisa!” you shouted.

A bullet tore through the jacket on her bicep, and her motorcycle jerked dangerously. In your ear, you heard a gasp rip from her lips, ending with a shuddered breath. A  _panicked_  breath.

“Lisa?” a worried voice joined yours on the channel. The others had no idea what was happening, but you had no time to think about them, let alone relay what was happening.

“Lisa!  _Move!_ ” you tried again. There was no sign that she had heard you.

Another bullet cracked the top of her helmet and she lurched forward, nearly losing control of the bike. Your mouth was dry. Lisa couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do anything. You leaned, gliding your bike closer. Which was a decision you regretted because it only brought you close enough to see the damage that had been done to her arm. Blood soaked fabric. It was all too similar. Tears sprung to your eyes. Hot.  _Angry_.

You turned around again. Took a careful aim —

“ _NO!_ ”

It took a second for the scream to register as your own.

The cop had found his mark in Lisa’s tire, rubber bursting. The motorcycle went down with a whine and flipped harshly over the road, spewing parts and pieces. And you helplessly watched as Lisa’s form was thrown sprawling to the asphalt like a ragdoll.

Without a second thought, you seized the brake. Your motorcycle hissed hysterically, smoke and the smell of burning rubber filling your nostrils. The force of the brake fishtailed the bike until you were facing the opposite direction again. You pistoled a boot for the kickstand, leapt from the bike, and _scared_ yourself.

Steps were calculated. Quick, but decisive. You weren’t running for Lisa, a prone figure by the side of the road finally stilled after tumbling too many yards. You were focused on the police as the squad car came to an abrupt stop, and the police emptied from the doors.

“Put your hands up or we’ll —!”

The sentence was cut short with a bullet to the brain.

The second cop only had a fraction of second to lift his gun, but you were faster. A pull of the trigger, arm jerking, and you unloaded your last round into the man’s throat. He fell backward, eyes blank, clutching his throat as blood spilled between his fingers in incredulous amounts.

The empty gun clattered as you tossed it aside, falling to your knees beside Lisa moments later. The blonde you knew to be shrouded by a helmet had thankfully begun getting to her hands and knees, and when you placed your hands on her shoulders, you felt how badly she was shaking. You know you didn’t have a lot of time, but you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to flick open her visor, praying to any gods that listened that she would survive this.

Blood ran in thin lines down her features. It wasn’t the bullet, it was the impact of the helmet breaking that had pierced her scalp. Her eyes worried you. They found yours as soon as you slid your own visor up, but they were wild. Scared. Lost.

But alive. There was a soft cry of pain as you helped her to her feet, but she could stand, though limping. She was moving. You ushered her to your motorcycle, helping her up as you slid back into the seat. As soon as you were both in position, you felt arms circle your waist. And then crush you. It made the ache from the bullet that had hit you in the back flare up, but you ignored it in favor of knowing that Lisa was holding onto you.

You took off again. And you didn’t stop. The rest of the ride was a blur, the circuit Jisoo had outlined engrained in your mind to the point it was all subconscious. Your active consciousness couldn’t stop replaying the sight of Lisa falling. The way she was suddenly powerless. What did it feel like? Flying over the motorcycle, hitting the ground, rolling over and over and  _over_. How was she alive? Not to mention the bullet that had hit her arm, the bullet that had shattered her helmet. The sight of blood on her face was an image that was going to come back in nightmares.

Suddenly, you remembered. You hadn’t killed one person, but two. For Lisa. What was strange was that it  _wasn’t_  strange. Not really. Maybe right now it didn’t feel weird, didn’t feel like you had torn off a piece of your soul to commit murder. Maybe later it would come back tenfold and cripple you. But you had Lisa. Lisa had gone through the same thing, had committed murder for you. Now, you could both go through the agony of living with it together.

It was eerily quiet on the channel. It could be because they were too scared to know what had happened. Too scared to ask the question: is Lisa dead? The way you had screamed when she went down echoed in your head. Echoed in all of your heads.

It was an hour ride to the new safehouse, but it went by relatively fast. It was spent savoring the feeling Lisa never letting you go. Her entire body pressed against yours. Arms that shook your ribcage. And there were moments you thought you could hear crying over the earpiece. But you weren’t sure. Not for now.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as you came to a halt inside the safehouse loading bay, you were swarmed. Without their helmets hiding their expressions, you watched Rosé’s eyes slide from your helmet to Lisa’s. Who was still resting against your back, unmoving. At once, the redhead was beside the bike, lifting the prone figure from against you. You didn’t even realize how much weight was placed on you until it was being removed, and you noticed too late that Lisa had fallen asleep against you. Or —

“What the fuck happened?” Jennie demanded, voice too loud. You flinched, thankful for the helmet hiding your features. But it didn’t last long, because Jisoo was suddenly on your other side, removing it. Unadjusted eyes blinked against the lights glaring down you, and you nearly fell as you were pulled off the bike.

“Wait,” you tried to speak. Words were failing you. What was happening? “Wait, Jisoo! I need…”

“It’s okay,” she said against your ear, drawing you away from the motorcycle. And Lisa. Who was hanging limply in Rose’s arms. Jennie pried off the broken helmet. Blonde hair fell down bony shoulders, streaked with red. Eyes shut. Too peacefully. “They’ll take care of her. Right now, you need to —”

“Stop… Jisoo!” you said. Shouted, actually. Your voice reverberated amongst the scaffolding. Despite your best efforts, Jisoo was stronger, dragging you away. “I need to be with her! Stop, Rosé!”

They didn’t hear you, it seemed. Rosé carried Lisa in an opposite direction, Jennie following and speaking lowly with the silver-haired double agent, Hani. The only thing in response was a worried look thrown over Jennie’s shoulder before they entered through another doorway, and Jisoo brought you through another.

“What are you doing?” you snapped, finally breaking free from Jisoo’s grip. All it did was let you fall to the ground. God, your legs felt weak. But  _you_  felt stupid. All you could say were a couple stammered words and fall down the second someone wasn’t holding onto you. Pushing off the ground with the palms of your gloves, you froze. Even though you wore gloves to hide any prints you might leave behind at a crime scene, there was blood on the ground in the formation of the groves from the leather. Suddenly, all you felt was confusion.

“Y/N, look at me.” Jisoo was on her knees beside you, taking your chin. “You’ve been hurt. Not as bad as Lisa, but I need to take care of you. And I can’t do that in the same room as her, because you won’t let any of us do anything.”

“What are you saying?” you shook your head. “I’m not hurt. Stop, I’m fine.”

You pushed away a hand that reached out. Jisoo wasn’t going to give up that easy, and you saw her jaw set in determination. She grabbed you again, surprisingly tenacious, and hoisted you to your feet, leading you across the room to a couch. You wondered briefly if they had been here long before you had showed up, because there was a med kit on the coffee table that Jisoo sat on in front of you.

“You are,” she said calmly. That was her thing, you had come to know. Jennie may be a strong leader with unyielding strength, but there was a quiet fierceness in Jisoo. An even better poker face. All this composure you couldn’t imagine building up yourself. You didn’t move or try to help when she sat forward and began undoing the harness that you still wore. It fell away on the couch, and the motorcycle jacket was the next to follow. Underneath was your vest. You swallowed as she ripped away the Velcro, a terrible noise filling the silence. The weight dropped off your shoulders, and you sighed. Those things were so damn heavy.

Jisoo took the vest for herself. On the front, nothing. But then she turned it over, and for the first time, you saw her break. Just a little. A crack in the façade. On the back, still stuck in the material, was a single bullet. Right where your spine ran down on the other side. It was crunched against the Kevlar. After a beat, she prodded the bullet, and it fell out of its spot after a bit of bother. It sat in her palm, much smaller after being impacted. You both stared, and then she tossed both the vest and the bullet to the side.

A hug crushed the air out of your lungs, and for the first time, you felt the pain she was talking about. It wasn’t a gunshot wound, but something else. For now, you hugged her back, ignoring the agony. Jisoo was scared. Or had been. They all heard you gasp out the jagged breath after being shot. It was similar, the sound, to the first time you had been shot through the shoulder. And now, you supposed it was too close a call.

“You don’t have to worry,” you muttered, even as you played with the ends of her hair in a soothing manner. “It’s Lisa we should be worried about.”

“I know, I just…” she trailed off. And then pulled away. Eyes not meeting yours. You were being insensitive.

“Okay, hey,” and it was your turn to lift her chin up. You offered a weak smile. “I’m good, okay? It’s all over.”

“It’s all over,” she repeated softly, nodding.

It was, wasn’t it?

You looked at each other for a moment longer, a heartbeat longer, and then she was taking her face out of your hand, reaching for the med kit.

That’s right. Apparently, you were hurt. You dropped your hand and leaned back against the couch. Your body ached all over, thankful for the rest. The security of the safehouse. But your mind wouldn’t let you rest, not completely. Because all you could think about, replay in your head, was Lisa slamming to the ground.

From the kit, Jisoo produced some resources. You weren’t paying close enough attention. Instead, you let your head fall back on the couch, closing your eyes. Hands touched your left arm, and then some cleaning alcohol. A stinging sensation ran up your arm, and you hissed through your teeth, Jisoo rubbing a cut you didn’t even know was there.

“From the motorcycle,” Jisoo responded to no question in particular. “When it crashed, pieces went flying. I saw it on a traffic camera. Some of it hit you, and I knew then that you were hurt. Even though you acted like you weren’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you professed, still not looking at her. The gauze moved down your arm, finding another spot to wipe at, what felt like pins and needles digging under your skin.

Jisoo didn’t say anything else, only worked. A few minutes were spent on your arm, and then she lifted the hem of your shirt, on your hip. There wasn’t much there, but it ached terribly like a bruise. You weren’t much help when she started shimmying your black cargo pants off. There, Jisoo continued anew at plenty of cuts down your leg. It was all on your left side. The side Lisa had been on. Lisa.

Lisa was the only thing left on your mind when you fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

This had to be the last time. You picked up a pawn from the table in the conference room, a landmark Jennie had set as part of the plan. After a moment, you recognized the landmark as the building you had been positioned on.

 _This had to be the last time,_  you thought again as you tossed the pawn back down onto the table.

Back in the day, the heists you had performed went flawlessly. Credit was due to the fact that they were smaller, robberies hosted at empty locations for little reward. At least they were never caught, and there were never police on their tail. But those burglaries could only take them so far, and money continually slipped through your fingers. In this day and age, people bled coins. To live, you couldn’t keep doing petty theft. You all had to start thinking big. For a while, they worked. Chain branches of banks went easily. It was when you started hitting the big banks, the marble mausoleums housing vaults of endless wealth.

The trouble began with you. A single bullet through the shoulder resulted in a man dead on the floor.

You weren’t bad people. You were a product of the world. The cost of surviving was heightening. You were only doing what you had to do to make it through another day.

That’s why this had to be the last time. The money gained from this heist would be enough to let you all live comfortably for the rest of your days. God, it certainly made it seem like you didn’t have that many days left. Every time a bullet hit your vest, it felt like it took a year off you. At this rate, your luck was going to run dry.

“Hey there,” a voice interrupted your thoughts.

You turned around from where you had been leaning back against the table to see Hani. The silver-haired girl pushed off from where she had been leaning against the doorframe. There was a sly smile on her face, the sort that still made you uneasy, even after how long you all had been plotting together. You didn’t say anything as she approached the table. A hand reached out, hovering over another pawn, before a slender finger extended to flick it over. Your eyes lifted from the motion back to her face.

“You taking everything okay?” she asked. As if she cared. You stared a moment longer.

“Making it,” you replied coldly. In front of you, you stared at the wall where maps littered the surface. Articles, notes, pictures, with drawn lines to connect them all. Jisoo and Jennie’s intelligence surpassed anything you could dream of. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” she admitted, slowly circling the table toward you. “What are you doing in here? The heist is over, we were successful.”

The urge to roll your eyes was hard to resist. There was that carefree personality you hadn’t quite taken to yet.

“I was supposed to clean up,” you said. “but I can’t seem to.”

“Why?” she pressed. She too leaned against the table beside you, but instead of looking at the wall, she was looking at you. Too much, you decided.

“I just want to know where it went wrong.” You didn’t want to open up to Hani, but you could say that much. Because it was true. You continued staring at the wall as if the answer was written there somewhere. Absently, you reached up to touch the spot on your shoulder before you could remember to stop. Hani didn’t miss it, even after you jerked your hand back to the lip of the furniture to grip there.

“Is that where…?” at least she had the decency to not finish the question. You nodded. “May I?”

A hand hesitated between the both of you. She wanted to see, and you glanced between her hand and her face before nodding slowly. You didn’t know why you allowed it, but there was no real reason to deny it either and so let her.

Hani was tender as she took the collar of your shirt and eased it off your shoulder. There it was, just beneath your collarbone. It was truly lucky where it hit, not shattering bone or hindering the movement in your arm. It only brought the chronic nerve pain that could easily be remedied on the worst days with a bit of weed.

A thumb caressed the scar, feeling the gnarled flesh. There wasn’t much sensation in the area, so you could only guess what she was doing. It was then you noticed how close she was, head ducked by yours, looking at the old memory. You could feel her breath. Feel the heat of her body. The air suddenly became static, and you tried to remain as stationary as possible. You didn’t want to give the wrong idea, even if it was something that she had conjured up herself.

The next moment, your breath hitched. A set of lips were pressed to your collarbone, kissing softly, but lingering. Still, you didn’t move. You stared at the wall, tried to see why everything had gone so wrong. Maybe even see where it was written that this was supposed to happen. You swallowed when the next kiss was higher up on your shoulder. And then the next even higher, below your ear. The hand that had been holding back your shirt was sliding down your arm to your wrist. Tightening there, pulling you closer as she skimmed your cheek…

“Y/N, there you — oh!”

The two of you jerked apart like you were teenagers caught making out by parents. Even though you hadn’t been doing anything, you still felt guilty as you looked over your shoulder at Jennie. She stood there, frozen at the door, hand raised as if she was going to knock. Eyes darted between you and Hani, who you realized had that damn smirk on her face again. It was then you made up your mind — you didn’t like her.

“I was just leaving,” Hani said, standing up. As she did, she let her hand drift off yours, and it took all your willpower to not rip away from her or glare as she turned away with a flip of her grey hair.

Jennie’s expression was suspicious as she stepped inside the room to allow Hani by, who gave a sweet smile you could tell was fake as she left. You let out a breath you had been holding, pinching the bridge of your nose to rid of the feeling of Hani’s lips on your neck. In that span of time, Jennie approached you, coming to stand in front. A hand cupped your cheek, and you dropped yours to look up at furrowed brows. Eyes searching your face for something.

“What was that?” she questioned. It was firm with concern.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” you relieved, shaking your head. “I think she came onto me for some reason.”

Jennie didn’t respond right away. A thumb brushed your cheek, a gesture that felt much more genuine than the one that had been touching your scar. In fact, Jennie didn’t like seeing the scar. The kind of person that believed in ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ You shrugged your shoulder a little to slide the shirt back into place. Without looking at it, Jennie moved her hand to cover the scar herself. A sad smile on her face.

“I think she has ulterior motives,” Jennie finally admitted cryptically. “But we don’t have to partner with her for long. Just until we pass off the Diamond and get our payment. Then she’s gone.”

You nodded, leaning forward to put your head against her chest. Arms wrapped around you, a kiss planted to the crown of your head. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be comforted in Jennie’s embrace.

“I didn’t like what I saw,” Jennie confessed under her breath. When you didn’t respond, she continued. “Try not to be alone like that again. I don’t want her near you.”

A please would have been nice, but that wasn’t exactly in Jennie’s vocabulary. But you knew she meant well, and while it sounded like an order, it was based in worry which what you always found yourself focusing on. What emotion her words lied in. You smiled to yourself, nodding against her. She squeezed you closer, brushing down your hair.

The hug lasted several, much needed minutes before Jennie was reluctantly pulling away. A single look displayed held breath, and then she was releasing it in a sigh. The weight of harbouring the Trader’s Diamond, known for switching owners ridiculously often in history, probably fell squarely on Jennie’s shoulders. At least she was the one doing it, because you knew you would buckle under the pressure of it. Another reason you admired the woman in front of you.

“This will all be over soon,” she murmured, smoothening down the bandage on your bicep. “Hani will have the buyer meet us in a week. For now, we just need to lay low. We can do it, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> this is the beginning of my move from tumblr to ao3!
> 
> you can contact/request @ blkpnkwriting.tumblr.com
> 
> leave a kudos & comment! ♡


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